Pickle Jar
by charredfeathers
Summary: She had loved him. He knew that much… he was not stupid. And he thought that perhaps, if he hadn’t been so selfish, he might have realized that he loved her too. KallenLelouch AU.


**Pickle Jar**

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**Summary**: She had loved him. He knew that much… he was not stupid. And he thought that perhaps, if he hadn't been so selfish, he might have realized that he loved her too. KallenLelouch AU.

**Author-person: **For the people of the **BKBQ **forums. Alecs here, by the way. XD

OOC-ness.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Code Geass.

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_**1796**_

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_To __**E**__nchant_

He stood beside the towering obelisk of the Parisian square, all the while looking up at the impending twilight. The orange and red hues of the sunset were already being painted with the darkest blue and the first few dots of evening lights had emerged from the darker regions of the horizon.

The violinist has always been like that… Coming to the square only at dusk to play his music. It was a daily routine. A habit. And it had been established, since he had come two weeks ago, that a day would not be deemed complete without his short, yet very satisfying performances.

He wore a dark coat of faded velvet, coarse common black shoes, and a fine cravat of white linen and Italian lace. He was a far cry from the image of a rich artisan, but his aristocratic features managed to gain him a small audience.

Kallen Stadtfeld stood amongst them. It was her first time to see the violinist's performances since people of her status were not very often able to mingle with the common folk. She had heard about him from the scullery maid who had come home one night from doing an errand. Said maid was ecstatic and flushed and was ranting about some very odd things like, 'the most beautiful eyes she had ever seen', 'so regal and delightfully elegant that it was impossible for _him _to be a mere street performer!'. And oh yes, she had talked and talked until the cook had laughed at her fantasizing and Kallen had had her interests piqued.

And so there she was, watching and waiting as he took one last look at the sky before laying his case down on the ground.

He took out the instrument, old and worn and not one of those renowned Stradivariuses. The dark-haired man put it to his shoulder and began twisting the pegs and plucking the strings expertly with long, pale fingers. Then he raised the bow, a bit old like the violin that went with it, and drew it down hard over the strings to bring out the first few notes.

He ripped into a song.

She watched in awe as she immersed herself in his music, drowning in the rawness of it. There was sadness and happiness and everything else in the tune. The intensity of each verse and the rapid torrent of notes passed through her like a gust of December wind. It was harsh. Beautiful, yes… but the ferocity of the song soon felt as though it were clawing at Kallen's chest. Clawing and tearing and _ripping_.

She fled as soon as the final note faded into the still air.

There was the clinking sound of change being thrown at his feet, scattered applause and several calls for an encore, but he ignored them with a swift, low bow and stowed away his instrument with trained speed. He would come and play again tomorrow he said, when the crowd had whined and grumbled in protest. And as always, he told them that one performance was for each day he stayed. He grinned sheepishly as the women chattered excitedly, feeling a surge of triumph running through his body. The violinist chuckled to himself.

He truly loved the city.

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_To __**C**__aution_

Kallen saw him again a week later on her way to the opera.

She was transfixed for a moment as she watched him from the distance, playing another song to steal some innocent lady's heart away. He was a charmer, that violinist. And with his good looks and obvious talents, Kallen wondered why he had not been asked to play for the opera or join a theatre group. It would suit him better, she thought, because he was an elegant-looking fellow unsuited for playing in the streets.

Her foreign friend, Suzaku Kururugi blinked as he held out a gloved hand to her and she seemed not to notice. The Japanese man followed her gaze and stiffened as soon as he saw the violinist take his final bow before moving to pack his instrument away.

"Perhaps it would be prudent of you to not associate yourself with him." Suzaku said firmly, bringing Kallen back to reality. She gave him a small, embarrassed smile and took the foreign man's hand before stepping out of the carriage.

"I am sorry, but I don't quite--"

"There is a foreboding aura around him, milady," he said, eyes growing dark. "There have been stories, you know… rumors have been spreading all around the country. People like him do not come to the city for the sole purpose of flaunting their art. He has a greater, if not, more sinister purpose."

It was, perhaps, Suzaku's careful observations and profound knowledge of things that had managed to keep the both of them out of danger ever since they had met, but Kallen thought that maybe he was merely misunderstanding things now. He was a foreigner after all. A man of different culture and tradition. He could not even begin to understand the sheer beauty of her country's music, of their arts, in the four years he had resided there.

So Kallen dismissed his warnings and laughed at his needless worry.

"You, sir, have too much time in your hands. You have better things to do than to listen to rumors, Suzaku." She touched his shoulder lightly. "Let's go before we miss the opera."

Suzaku sighed and nodded, feeling defeated as Kallen paid no heed to his warning. He followed his friend up the stairs of the theater without another word.

They did not see the violinist look over his shoulder to glance at the red-haired girl running up the steps.

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_To __**I**__rk_

He began playing an other unknown tune. It was a fast melody. Too many notes ripping and flowing out of the tattered violin. He sawed through the strings, going up and down scales, producing high pitched notes that were too quick to follow.

But she loved it.

She loved it as she had loved his other works, his past compositions that varied every single day she had come to watch. His styles had resembled the gaiety of Mozart's genius and Haydn's dramatic surprises, even Beethoven's unconventional modulations.

He had left her intrigued and eager. Obsessed and fanatical. And she found herself craving for his music more and more as each stifling day passed.

It was a pulling, _wrenching _force that drew her to him like a moth to a flame. She _knew _it was dangerous, but she could not bring herself to care.

And there it was again. That familiar stab of pain when she had first seen him. She clutched at her chest and she bit her lip hard enough to draw some blood.

The familiar sound of coins tinkled on the cobblestones, and the pain ceased almost immediately. Kallen blinked, dazed, and reluctantly joined the audience as they applauded the violinist.

The red-haired girl tilted her head in curiosity. One song for each day? How was he supposed to live on spare change? Wouldn't it have been more practical to work in the opera house and sell his sheet music? Surely the managers would pay a sufficient amount to get their hands on such first-class compositions…?

Kallen's brows creased together. She stood rooted to her spot until most of the crowd had dissipated. Needless to say, she was intrigued about the man and was hell bent on finding out who he truly was.

She followed him.

She went with the crowd's flow, at first. Blending into them expertly and managing to look as though she had her own business to attend to… but after a while she needed to keep her footsteps quiet. It was not easy for they had walked through the darker alleys of the city. Once or twice, the young man she was trailing turned to look over his shoulder. Kallen was lucky she had thought to keep some distance from him… at least far enough to get some cover when he occasionally looked back. Her shoes were not meant for stealth and were clicking noisily on the cobblestone paths. She made the decision to take them off after they had rounded the next corner.

The red-haired girl trailed him, dress bundled up in her arms and feet cold from walking barefoot. He just kept going and going and going… she was about to give up until…

He stopped in front of a door.

Kallen slinked into the shadows, her back against the wall. She held her breath.

The place was familiar. She knew she had been there before… perhaps from when she was younger… but she could not quite remember. Kallen fixed her blue eyes on the violinist again and saw him rapping against a wooden door of an oddly structured establishment. It was fairly large and hidden in perhaps the most isolated location in the city. Kallen found it odd that anyone who wanted to open up a business would situate the place in such a remote area.

Gathering up her dress again, she all but tip-toed nearer, keeping her back against the wall and staying within the shadows. Her eyes widened as the door of the establishment swung open revealing a rather revealingly dressed woman.

She was fairly pretty with strawberry blonde hair and had a very seductive grin plastered on her face.

Then Kallen remembered.

Her father had taken her to this place before. He had made her wait outside in the dark as he finished whatever business he had with a beautiful brunette that cold winter night. Kallen almost laughed out loud.

It was a brothel.

So he _was _like any other low-life. It didn't matter if he produced the most enchanting melodies. It didn't matter if he was a charmer, if he was a musical genius, if he seemed at all chivalrous… He was like her father. That alone was reason enough for her to hate him.

"Oh dear. Is she running without her shoes on?" Antoinette gave out a girlish giggle as she spotted a red-haired girl sprinting in the opposite direction of the brothel. The violinist followed her gaze, amethyst eyes following the retreating figure with keen interest. He had seen her before.

"What on earth is she thinking?" Another giggle, and the dark-haired man had finally decided that this flirtatious one would be his that night.

He gave out a low chuckle. "I have no idea."

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_To __**R**__eproach_

"You have been watching me." He directed his accusation at a noblewoman stepping down the carriage.

The redhead stiffened at the violinist's claims. She hadn't thought that she would be so easily found out. And dear lord, why had he decided to approach her when Suzaku was unavailable? She had no means of protection from this man. Who knew what he was capable of?

"You flatter yourself, sir." Kallen held her chin up, quickly masking her shocked expression. "Why would I do such a thing?"

The man chuckled, pressing a gloved hand against his mouth. It was so typical of noblewomen to lie. So incredibly typical.

"Perhaps you were… how do you say… entranced?" His lips twitched upwards almost imperceptibly. "It is a most common reaction I receive from ladies."

Kallen huffed in mild indignation. "Sir--"

"Lelouch, madam. Lelouch Lamperouge." He swept into a low bow and smirked as he did so. He took pleasure in seeing the girl's flushed expression.

"Lelouch."

"Yes?"

"Might I ask you to leave me be?"

"I'm afraid that is quite impossible. I apologize." Another smirk.

"Why is that?"

Lelouch feigned an expression of shock, putting a pale hand on his chest and letting out a small gasp of mock surprise. Kallen wanted to roll her eyes at his ridiculous behavior but found herself slightly smiling instead. She cursed her inability to hate this man enough.

"Because, milady," The man reached out and traced Kallen's jaw line with his index finger. He leaned closer and whispered into her ear, "I find you…"

"…amusing."

And she ran, face red and jackhammer heart beating wildly against her ribcage. She almost stumbled as she made her way up the theater house and was lucky that she had caught herself in time.

Kallen thought she heard Lelouch Lamperouge's laughter echoing in her ears.

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_To __**E**__xpress Interest_

They met again in the old, musty music shop a few streets away from the theater house. Kallen had just come to pick up a few piano scores for her friend, Milly Ashford… She hadn't expected to run into Lelouch Lamperouge just three nights after their previous encounter. Kallen ran a hand down her face in frustration. This meeting did not bode well.

"Ah, Madam Red(1)."

"Kallen Stadtfeld."

Lelouch lifted one perfectly arched brow. "Excuse me?"

"My name. It's Kallen Stadtfeld."

"Ah, I see."

The noblewoman stared at the violinist in front of her with curious blue eyes. He had a number of music sheets tucked under his left arm and his violin case was clutched tightly in his hand. His dark hair was tied together by a black ribbon as usual but his faded coat was traded for a much newer one of the same color. What Kallen really noticed was that he looked more radiant. More alive. She thought he looked better that way. Perhaps he was eating well…?

Or maybe that other habit of his was doing him some good?

Kallen shuddered at the thought.

"I was wondering what a lady such as yourself would be doing here…" Lelouch put his case down on the polished wooden floor and reached up to get a book from one of the higher shelves.

"I'm doing a friend a favor." She gestured to the sheets in her hand and turned her heel. "I'll be going now."

"Are you in a hurry?"

"Yes."

"Because I was wondering if you would like to have dinner with me?"

"No."

"Charming. Ah, I know just the place."

She did not know why she hadn't uttered a single word of protest when he almost literally dragged her out of the music shop.

They weaved through the throng of people, but not quite pushing through them at all. Lelouch was leading her expertly. His hand at her waist, a smirk playing on his lips and an amused glint in his eyes. Kallen was bewildered in his unconventional manner of getting a lady's attention, but reveled in it when she noticed the shocked faces of one or two ladies they had passed by… both of which she had recognized as Lelouch's ardent admirers.

Kallen felt oddly… smug.

They had reached a small, but modest restaurant. It wasn't quite what she expected of him, actually. It was… in it's own unique way, very classy. She raised a very skeptical brow at the man beside her.

"I played Bach today because I hadn't had the time to make anything. People seemed to enjoy it enough." Lelouch shrugged, a rise and drop of his shoulders. The noblewoman looked at him incredulously.

"A problem, milady?"

"I had thought you were incapable of such a casual action. Shrugging, I mean. You've been always, er, extravagant." She fell into a step behind him and was reluctant to walk inside when the violinist held the door open for her. She merely stood rooted to her spot as she raised a questioning brow at the man.

"I have a feeling you have thought a lot of things about me, Kallen." He smiled and took her hand again. Kallen blushed as he said her name with such ease and familiarity.

"I assure you that most of them might not be correct, though."

"Oh? Are you suggesting that my first impressions of you should be discarded so easily? I find no assurance in your tone of voice, sir."

"Lelouch is my name, milady. I believe I have told you that before." He gazed at her with sincere eyes and pulled her closer, effectively closing whatever distance they had between them. Kallen found herself lost in those pools of heliotrope. "And yes. First impressions can be quite misleading, you know."

"Er, yes. I apologize," she blushed again and bowed her head, "excuse me for my manners, Lelouch."

The man (bless him and his chivalrousness) swept into a low bow again and pressed his lips lightly against the inside of the red-haired girl's wrist. He caught the scent of roses on her skin and felt the low thrumming of her pulse…

"You are interesting."

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_To Attain **N**aught_

Perhaps it was wrong. It was. Yes. Definitely. It had only been two months since she had met him… she had never thought that their once short, and casual evening meetings would turn into hushed rendezvous.

Her governess, Cornelia, had expressed her rather obvious distaste for the dark-haired man. The woman was always right. ALWAYS. And Kallen dreaded the fact that she would take matters into her own hands. Cornelia would take any chance to wring the violinist's neck if he dared to even take one step into Stadtfeld Manor's grounds.

"Lady, I beg of you. Do not see him again."

"But--"

"There are rumors."

"What--"

"He was seen near a brothel. A _brothel_!"

"I know--"

"You know?!"

"Yes, I--"

"Good heavens! Lord Suzaku was right to tell me--"

"Suzaku? Suzaku told--"

But Cornelia waved her hand dismissively and glowered at her student. "I does not matter who told me. What matters is that you need to be kept safe. We cannot have you hurt in any way… So please understand."

Kallen tilted her head to the side. "Safe? Safe from what?"

In response, Cornelia merely waved her hand again and continued to pace back and forth in her lady's chambers. This violinist character was shady indeed and she was so sure that he would bring nothing more than trouble if Kallen continued to see him. The governess let out a weary sigh and finally came to stop in front of the chamber door.

"Lady, I will be taking my leave now. In the mean time, please think about what you are doing… I will come back tomorrow, and we shall resume our lessons." Cornelia made a curtsy and closed the door behind her with an soft click.

The redhead looked down on her hands that were clenching at the fabric of her dress. They were hands of an aristocrat. Soft and smooth, definitely without blemish. She wondered if his were the same… But they could not be. Of course not. He was a street performer and she was part of the _genterie_. They were practically worlds apart.

Theirs was a sad affair, she mused. It had barely even started and now it was coming to an abrupt end. Truthfully, Kallen was not even sure if she could consider their vague relationship as anything close to romantic… She was certain she had feelings for Lelouch and she knew that he held some sort of interest for her. He had been courteous, but most of the time he had been coquettish. He had been subtle, but Kallen knew that the interest was _there_.

"Ah," Her finger specked with a bubble of red as she pricked herself with a pin that had been sticking out of the hem of her dress. Kallen sighed. This was not the first time she had been fiddling with things absently. Silently, she reminded herself that she ought to be careful.

There had been a soft thump somewhere behind her, and if it wasn't for the cold hand that had clamped over her mouth, she would have had her maids running to her room.

"Kallen," Lelouch warned, his breath ghosting over her skin, "it is only me." He let go of her very slowly and watched as she calmed herself down. His eyes drifted to the small pinprick, and Kallen saw him grimace as she pressed her finger on a kerchief.

"How did you get here?' The redhead asked breathlessly. She blinked as her violinist sunk into the bed beside her. "I hope the guards haven't spotted you. My governess has surely given an order to swipe your head off if they ever see you."

Lelouch only laughed, a low, rumbling sound that came from the back of his throat. His eyes were transfixed to the ceiling, unblinking. Calculating. "I have my ways, Lady Stadtfeld. I was easily able to hide within the shadows. I advise you to have more torches lit."

"Lelouch," she started with an even tone. The dark-haired man beside her sat up and raised one fine brow. "Do you… that is to say. Uhm."

With one swift motion, he pinned her down on the bed and Kallen almost, _almost, _let out another scream again, but his lips prevented her from doing so. She just lay there, a bit surprised. Overwhelmed. Possibly rendered speechless. She couldn't seem to blink at all and she found herself actually wanting their first kiss to end then and there.

Her wrists were still captured by pale, cold hands, pinned to the bed like butterflies to a board.

"What are you doing?!" She hissed, wide eyed and shaking when he had _finally _stopped. Lelouch merely chuckled and loosened his grip on her wrists. He pulled her up so that she was sitting on the bed and moved to kiss the spot where she had been pricked.

"Kissing you, milady. I think I was doing it just right." He smirked again. It was one of those annoying, condescending smiles that he liked to give her when he was teasing.

When she had seen his expression and that glint of mischief in his eyes, Kallen understood.

He was not serious.

"Lelouch--"

But there was only the rustling of her curtains and the whispering of the wind.

She was alone again.

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_To __**N**__eglect_

She had decided that even if he did not love her as much as she loved him , she would not care. Or at least, she would not show that she did.

One would probably deem their relationship short-lived. A poor case. Incredibly pitiful, even. Perhaps there wasn't a real relationship all along… Perhaps she had just imagined his gentle touches, his kisses, the sweet-nothings he had whispered in her ear.

Their tale was poignant. And somewhat involved a forbidden affair much like Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet. Only, their tale was solely tragic. Never romantic. Never riddled with words of undying devotion. Never sealed with promises of a love that would last for eternities to come.

It was not love at first sight. Because such a thing would require something mutual.

And it wasn't like that for them.

It was a blind love. One that was sad and empty and Kallen knew that when he had grown tired of her, he would throw her away just like any old dishrag.

He had grown detached. Numb, even. He would come into her chambers every two days or so and he would comfort her. They would share heated kisses, and he would always feign passion. But Kallen knew… And perhaps she had _always_ known that their end would be tragic and prosaic. But she kept all these thoughts to herself.

Kallen followed him through the winding streets, into the darker corners of the city. At first, she had thought that he would take her to the brothel, just like her father had done all those years ago. Her breath hitched as the anxiety slowly crept up her chest. She was anxious for the wrong reasons, though. She realized this when he had led her to one dark alley and revealed even darker secrets.

Lelouch took her by the shoulders and shoved her roughly against the wall. He sneered and let out a low growl as he pressed his cold lips on her skin, inhaling her scent. His nails dug deeper into Kallen's shoulders, deep enough to draw more blood and he shoved her again as she tried to break free from his hold.

Her head hit the surface hard and something warm trickled down the back of her neck. She choked as Lelouch's moved to grasp her throat and tried hopelessly to pry his hand away. She could see red. His eyes were red. She couldn't scream. Couldn't call for help. Her heart beat against her chest rapidly, painfully. Her eyes darted to every direction, looking for any means of escape, looking for someone, _anyone_ to save her from this man.

"You have no idea," he said, voice calm, like velvet, "how long I have wanted you like this."

She thought of Suzaku and Cornelia and clenched her eyes shut as she heard their voices in her head, repeating over and over their warnings and concern. Hot tears streamed down cheeks as she remembered the first time she had heard him play, remembered the very piece that hypnotized her, remembered how it charmed her, how it had drawn her to this… this…monster.

Kallen remembered thinking that she was in love, and even though he was hurting her, killing her, she still is.

His hand moved again to tilt her head to the side, clutching at her hair and she felt his teeth graze her skin. She almost laughed when she realized who-- what Lelouch Lamperouge was. It explained some things. His coming out only at night, his paleness, his ability to make people gravitate towards him, his reaction to her pinprick… it all, no matter how absurd it seemed, made perfect sense.

Before she had remembered which book she had read it from, she felt his teeth sink into her skin.

He felt his heart swell as her blood coursed through the length of his throat. He felt alive. The blood poured into him, quenching his thirst, his hunger. Whatever pleasure he had attained was beyond him. She was better than anything he had ever tasted. Better than those whores he had drained so many nights before when he had first seen her. He had tried everything. Everything just to stop himself from touching this girl.

Yet he failed.

Lelouch did not know why he didn't want to drink from her. And perhaps he never will realize the reason. He was a monster after all. And somewhere out there he knew that his Maker was grinning at his weakness, mocking his inability to save the only girl he had ever really cared for. He saw her golden eyes flashing in his head, and for one fleeting second he thought that she was standing right beside him.

"Le…louch…"

His eyes widened as she called out. He could still hear her faint heartbeat, her ragged breathing… And with all the restraint the could muster, he pulled away.

Lelouch lay her down on the ground carefully. She was nearly dead, but not quite… He touched her face, her lips, and felt something akin to guilt spreading throughout his chest.

She had loved him. He knew that much… he was not stupid. And he thought that perhaps, if he hadn't been so selfish, he might have realized that he loved her too.

So he tried to save her.

The moon was pristine white… A bright shining orb hanging on invisible thread.

It was the only witness to what had transpired that night

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**_2009_**

**_---_**

_To Make __**A**__mends_

He was wearing a black shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, black pants with a chain dangling at his hip and Converse. There was a guitar case slung over his shoulder.

He was about to get the last jar of pickles when a hand had reached out just as he was about to grab it.

Blue and amethyst blinked in confusion, then in recognition.

He smiled. Not a smirk. A smile.

She had spent two hundred years of searching…

...It was about time that they start over.

….

**Author-person:** **1. Madam Red**- could not help the Kuroshitsuji referencing. XD

GAH. Oh god. That was good to get out of my chest. It is 3am and I am sneaking out to use the computer. Will edit this again. :D

I know it was anti-climactic and freakishly vague. Please bear with me, I am trying to get this stupid writer's block out of my system.

P.S. Oh and in my world, vampires can eat human food. They just find it sickening. And you know that taste you get when you brush your teeth and drink orange juice? That is what water tastes like to them. XD

P.P.S. Use the bolded letters at the beginning of every 'scene' to form a name, spell it backwards, and voila! You have the name of one of my favorite authors!

Oh and please (please!) review! D:


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